Katana
by Shea Fahlin
Summary: The story of another CoH character- the origin of Corrigan Easton, my crazy katana-weilding character. PG13 for possible language.
1. Chapter 1: Decision

The introduction chapter to my Katana fanfic. Enjoy! REDONE for your enhanced reading pleasure!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. Period. Done. Think communist but without the red flag. And I have even less money. Getting it yet?

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Chapter 1: Decision

_Why are they chasing us? We're not important! _Corrigan ran along the alley, dragging Talia behind him. _No time to think. Got to escape!_

They ran through the rain, ducking down side alleys. The grimy walls of the city seemed to enclose upon them. The sound of footsteps behind them seemed at every moment louder, as if they would be caught in but a second.

Despair overtook Cor, as a left turn brought them to a dead end. He looked in frantic desperation, and then spotted a fire escape ladder that was low enough to climb to. Motioning to Talia, Corrigan began climbing.

As Cor reached the edge of the ladder, his fingers curling around the cold iron, there was a yell behind him, then the sound of someone landing on the wet asphalt. Corrigan, clinging to the ladder, looked over his shoulder. The sight that greeted him made him freeze up in terror; Talia had been grabbed and thrown off the wall by one of their pursuers. Seeming to tower over her, the three thugs in white jackets issued guttural laughs as they closed in. Each held a dangerous street weapon; one held a chain, another held a bat, and the third wielded a knife. They circled Talia, and as they closed in, she screamed and looked frantically for an escape. Her eyes met Corrigan's. Her face conveyed to him pure, absolute fear.

Anger, brewing in Corrigan's chest this whole time, exploded within him—anger at the world, at the thugs that jeered and laughed, anger at their lives... and then the anger faded, fell away like a veil, leaving something very different. A perfect calm. A complete understanding.

An icy hatred.

A crazed scream made the thugs look upward in sudden surprise. Both feet slammed into the face of the nearest thug, the one with the bat. A spray of blood coupled with the sound of splintering cartilage made the other thugs cringe, as the first went down under the blow. Cor fell into a roll, coming up with the thug's bat in hand.

The other thugs stared for a second in amazement at this eleven-year-old boy standing over the unconscious body of their fallen comrade. Then, with a guttural laugh at their ally's misfortune, the thug with the knife stepped forward and slashed almost lazily.

At the place Cor had been standing just a moment before. Ducking inward under the thug's guard, Cor lashed out with the bat, snapping the thug's knee in the wrong direction with a sickening crack. Screaming in pain, the thug fell right into Cor's rising bat. The scream cut off with telltale suddenness.

Cor suddenly fell to the ground, a sharp, hot pain blazing through his left cheek. The chain thug swung again, and Cor moved out of the way barely in time. The chain sent sparks flinging from the pavement, and a loud ringing crack echoed through the empty alley. On the third swing, Cor jumped to the right and brought the bat into the thug's solar plexus, driving the air from his body and sending the chain skittering down to the wall. As the thug bent over, gasping for breath, Cor brought the bat up and then down, with all his strength, onto the back of his neck.

He went down and did not get back up.

Standing, Cor surveyed the scene. All three of the thugs lay on the ground. Blood stained the once white jackets, and ran into puddles in swirling patterns. The rain fell still, diluting the violence, washing away the memory of the battle. Even as Cor realized that the thugs were finished, thrust off the mortal coil by his own crazed assault, the strange icy hate filtered slowly from his consciousness.

Dropping the bloodstained bat, Cor dragged himself over to where Talia was sitting. She looked at him with mingled thanks and fear, but those emotions both turned to worry as she took in the long gash on his face. Ripping off some of his ratty shirt, Cor bound the wound as well as he could.

Deep in thought, Cor went back over the battle. He wasn't sure what had come over him, or how he had done what he did. He had been scared to immobility, and then he had suddenly found himself acting without thought. Never before had he attacked another person. And he had no regrets about the fight. It was over now.

He knew this. And he also knew that he never wanted to see that look of terror on his sister's face again.


	2. Chapter 2: Ice

Hey, CloudedLeopard, glad to see you're so ecstatic about the new story! Cor's my favorite character, too, for some reason, so... here's the story!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I am broke. I've even sold my body to science. This is me being broke and not owning City of Heroes. Got it? Good.

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Chapter 2: Ice

It was easiest to call through happiness. Cor preferred that way, anyway.

He called it the Ice. He described it as peace through extreme emotion. When he called it, it magnified his current emotion—sadness became depressive sorrow, anger became deep hatred, and happiness became ecstatic joy. In any case, this pure emotion flowed through him in a chill wash, relaxing his muscles, sharpening his mind and senses. It only came when he called for it, and he rarely did. Especially now that there was nothing to do with it.

He and Talia were holed up in a basement of a rundown house in Kings Row. The alien Rikti had already invaded the area, devastating everything in their path. However, once they conquered a place, they ignored it, pausing only to extract natural resources from the area. Cor and Talia were probably safer here than outside.

They had raided the area, found food and drink. They had enough to stay set for some time. They only hoped that the Rikti would soon be beaten back. If the Rikti won...

The basement was full of boxes, old things tucked away because they were no longer used. Talia found a nice flute. She always loved flute music, and she was exceptionally good at it. Turned out she had the Ice, too, and she used it while playing to express the emotion of the song.

Cor found a fairly solid wooden bat, and a stash of small firearms. He and Talia kept a handgun with ammo each, in case the Rikti found them, and Cor practiced with the bat on a punching bag each day.

His skill and power were greatly increased while he called the Ice. It seemed to bring out the deep strength usually reserved by the human body for situations of extreme stress. It frightened him—he was never sure when he would truly push himself past his limits, and he wasn't sure he would even be able to tell if he did until he dropped dead. Thus, most of his practice was outside of the call, and he reserved the use of the Ice for truly dire emergencies.

They lost track of time, measuring its passing only by the amount of food they had left. Thus, they did not know how much time had passed when someone opened the door and came down looking for survivors, barely avoiding a killing blow from Cor's bat before Cor realized it was another human. The news had finally come—the Rikti had been pushed back, and they were safe to come out again.


	3. Chapter 3: Sensei

Continuing the origins of Corrigan Easton. Hope that this chapter comes out better than the last...

DISCLAIMER: I do not own CoH. I never have and never will. So there.

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Chapter 3: Sensei

The rebuilding went smoothly. After the Rikti, people were closer than ever, with the though of shared humanity in their minds. Soon enough, Paragon City was fully rebuilt.

Then the problems began springing up. In the wake of the terrible devastation, the police were practically gone and the Heroes of Paragon were all but destroyed. This huge opening attracted crime of all shapes and sizes. Gangs, cults, evil corporations... they all came rushing in to capitalize. That was when some of the citizens of Paragon banded together and formed the Vigilantes, a group that lasted only a short while but filled the law enforcement void.

Cor was one of them. They took it upon themselves to deal with the new enemies. Many died in service to Paragon. Few were remembered. Not everyone in the Vigilantes knew everyone else, but nonetheless they shared the common bond of strength.

The Vigilantes were disbanded after most of them joined the reformed Paragon City Police Department, but their legacy was not so short-lived. A few of them still fought crime on their terms. Many of them would become Superheroes.

Cor was one of the ones who kept fighting.

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Cor felt the Ice leave him as he stood slowly up. He stepped over the unconscious body draped in fire-red clothes, and reached down to pick up his bat. He wiped the blood off it on the Hellion's shirt, and then stuck it back on his belt.

"Thanks for your help," he said, turning to the man beside him. "If you hadn't shown up, I probably would have been toasted. Name's Corrigan."

The man sheathed his sword, and then made a small bow. "I am Hikari Ryujin. You surprise me; you wield that bat with a grace far more than that of a baseball player. Nonetheless, you may have bit off more than you could chew here, hmm?"

Cor looked around, counting fourteen bodies around him. "Well, I didn't see most of them... yeah, that could have been dangerous." He gave Ryujin a goofy smile and a small bow, and then turned to go.

"Corrigan-san," Ryujin said, "If you continue to fight so poorly, you will surely perish. You cannot be as much a fool as that, I am sure."

Cor turned around, his smile gone. "Hey, don't you rip me, old man! If you think you can do better, why not show me, huh? C'mon, let's go!"

Ryujin smiled widely, and replied, "Perhaps I should do just that, hmm? Maybe I should show you how to fight. Perhaps you might learn something."

Cor's anger dissipated as the statement sunk in. "You in the market for a student, ol—Ryujin-san?"

Ryujin looked him over, and sat in thought for a long time. Then, with another tight smile, he bowed. Cor bowed back.

"I am ready to learn, Ryujin-Sensei."


End file.
